September 2024

I’m woken up at 6.30 am by a chorus of cockerels from varying distances across the mountains.

Elif Shakfak’s book, The Island of Missing Trees has encouraged me to consider trees in greater depth. Here, there is a walnut tree between the kitchen door and the outbuilding, its branches overhanging the orchard fence, It’s trunk is vertical with angular branches. It’s bark is pale and smooth, interlaced with defined ridges. I’m still learning the cycle of the gardening season over here. In front of the outbuilding on the right edge of the garden stands  the most impressive tree: A large rambling, unkempt, green olive, a species of Olea. These olives are best for eating rather than oil. Looking forward to the time when we are here to harvest the fruit and learn the preserving process. I am inspired by Anna Higham’s wonderful book, The Last Bite, which has an incredible olive oil ice cream recipe and intriguing fig leaf ones. A grape vine is entwined into the branches of the tree uniting it with a tall fig tree next to the well.

The path from the backyard leads to the front corner of their plot via the fig tree and the well. The corner is uneven, overgrown but there are surviving pomegranate and lemon trees growing amongst the tangled mess. In the front of the garden there is a concrete flat area with another vine that I started to train upwards in May with the help of my father in law, Nikos, who occasionally tends to the garden in our absence.

The entrance is enclosed with  faded blue wrought iron gates with concrete pillars either side. A large white mulberry tree grows tall and strong over the right hand pillar creating a layer of privacy from the road. To the left there is a trumpet creeper (Campsis radicals) spilling over a small patch where I have planted a rose bush, several lavender plants and some rosemary. White jasmine sprawls over a metal arch above the steps leading up to the front door.

I first set eyes on this house in the summer of 2022 online from the UK, whilst pursuing one of my favourite activities at the time - looking for houses we couldn’t afford in Zakynthos. The pictures were minimal, the details sparse but there was something about the style of the doors which sparked my interest.

I was curious and it was on the market for an affordable price. We had no idea of what the house looked like inside or any other details. I suggested we view the property on our next visit in an month’s time. Most of the estate agents on the island do not state the exact location of the property on the listing to avoid buyers approaching the sellers directly. We had only a very vague idea of where it was.

Sitting in the estate agent’s office in Zakynthos town a month later, the estate agent attempted to usher us in the direction of holiday villas which she assumed would be more suitable. These were politely rejected. A plastic bag containing a mass of keys was emptied onto the desk and once the right bunch was found we headed off in convoy to view the house. I was expecting the worst to be honest. We had been saving for several years for another house which fell through (more on this at a later date). Our budget was still extremely limited but the house was just about within it.

The estate agent’s car turned off the main road which runs from north to south and lead us up winding roads passing olives groves and rusty, disused agricultural equipment.

Eventually we drove up a steep incline with a large, ochre coloured church at the top of it. From the outside the house looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years. The garden was overgrown with piles of dead leaves littered everywhere.

It was split level, set into the mountain, with a drive leading up to a garage with a flat concrete area in front of it. Above the garage was another flat tiled area with a peeling dark green wrought iron balcony situated at the front of the house. I was immediately drawn to the faded blue tall shutters and the ornate rusty iron door painted blue and white. After trying out numerous keys the door creaked open and we walked into darkness. As the windows and shutters swung open sunlight shone into a large living room with the most beautiful patterned tiles. The room was furnished with 2 large sofas with printed patterned covers, various pieces of dark wooden furniture and numberous books relating to the Greek Orthodox Church. There were two en-suite bedrooms and a separate shower room with 1970s blue and white wall tiles.

A doorway with a heavy sliding wooden door led into a dining room with more dark wooden furniture, an overhead brass fan and two wooden benches with lids for storage.To the right was the kitchen, a dark tiny space fitted with pine cupboards, a large old fridge and marble work surfaces. The metal kitchen door opened out to an area shaded by a tiled pergola, a canopy which could be adjusted with a cranky wind up mechanism and a beautiful walnut tree. Steps led down to an intriguing stone outbuilding with a bread oven, old wine barrels and a huge amount of junk.

A fenced off area at the back was a wild overgrown mess but there were lemon, pear and pomegranate trees which by some miracle had survived neglection. Chickens clucked noisily from beyond the bank which separated the land behind. A prickly pear tree and even more olive trees cascaded down over a wire fence.

The village was quiet and far away from any signs of tourism which this island is renowned for. One of our favourite places to swim was a just a ten minute drive away.

We had an offer accepted the following day, collected the keys in April 2023 and so the journey began.